


Purple

by Beibiter



Category: Lovelyz, Park Bogum - Fandom, SISTAR, Seo Inguk - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10427079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beibiter/pseuds/Beibiter
Summary: Jin is unhappy and dating someone wasn't on her list of priorities. But life doesn't always turn out as planned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a few months ago. still have the second chapter on my laptop. i might write a third one if im feeling it but i have a feeling this combo(jin+inguk) isnt gonna be popular. i love her though ;;

I'm sitting on the couch of a psychologist right now. It's comfortable. The room itself, too. It's spacious and modern, painted in eggshell-white. The floor is covered with pine wood. There are a few white, oddly-shaped vases filled with purple flowers and shrubbery.

One of the big windows has been opened. The translucent curtains are blowing out into the open.

“You are unhappy.”

“Well, I'm not happy. I guess... I am unhappy, then. It's hard to say.”

She smiles and I can see wrinkles right next to her eyes and on her chin, too. The curtains are still dancing.

“A lot of people feel that way. You're not the only one. I can't help you in a matter of seconds. It's more of a process and I'm mostly helping you to help yourself. If you understand that and still want to continue you can make arrangements with my secretary.”

I look out the window. Outside the builing is a small greenhouse, adjacent to it are flowerbeds, grass and a small pathway. I know where it leads to: a maze.

“Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to get some tea.” She stands up slowly and fixes her slightly wrinkled blouse. It has a violet lumberjack pattern and her sleeves are rolled up. I can imagine her working in the garden, sweating, while she's digging out holes in the soil for little flower seeds.

After I hear the door closing, I continue observing the rest of the room. A little wardrobe, a washbasin, a small desk covered with folders and pens, a metal umbrella stand, an electric tea kettle. Nothing's really eyecatching, nor special, but I stare at all the things, until I hear the door opening. 

A hasty “Sorry!” follows and it closes again.

I turn around to catch a look at the intruder but it's already too late. From the voice alone I'm sure that it is a man. The doorknob is pushed down once more, but this time the psychologist enters. 

She's holding a green box of herbal tea and puts it down on the table. 

“I have an eager young man waiting outside my room.” She laughs softly. “Last time that happened, I was still in college. Don't worry, he won't hear us. He's just a tad early for his appointment.”

I nod and she goes to the kettle, filling it with water from the tap and turns it on.

She begins asking me questions. About my favourite colour, my favourite food, my favourite song. I ponder and then admit that I don't have any favourites. She recommends going out to eat, listening to music and drawing. She talks about her favourites. Her favourite activity in her leisure time(gardening), her favourite animal(dogs) and her favourite colour(puple). 

“I noticed”, I tell her and point to the vase and her blouse. “It's because of your name, isn't it?”

She smiles. “It is. I don't know whether my parents called me Bora knowing that I would love the colour or if I turned out to love the colour because of my name.”  
When our meeting ends, I shake her hand and open the door. A pair of dark eyes meets mine. I didn't know back then, but they would soon become my favourite pair of eyes. It is a man, I can recognize at least that. And I didn't know back then, but he would become my favourite person. A white mask is covering his mouth. And I didn't know back then, but it would become my favourite mouth.

The man is sitting erectly, but bows quickly after I've stepped out and I can smell his cologne.

“I'm sorry for barging in”, he apologizes, voice slightly muffled by the mask. 

I bow, too and turn to leave then. There's nothing for me to add.

When I walk down the white corridor I can hear him standing up, shuffling to the door.


End file.
